"The ship that left Nassau is said to have reached the fog zone."
"Really?"
In the dimly lit office, a man holding a red fruit smiled upon hearing the report.
"It seems that the northerners are finally going to meet the dwarves."
The man began slicing the fruit into pieces one by one and feeding them to the parrot perched on his shoulder.
The colorful parrot's eyes narrowed as if it enjoyed the bitter taste its owner was offering.
"Did you bribe the sailor properly?"
"Yes, we've already placed the communication crystal on the ship."
"Good."
Satisfied with the report, the man swung his feet off the table and, holding the parrot on his finger, walked over to the window.
"At last, I'll finally see the island of the dwarves."
Sunlight started streaming in through the open window, revealing the blue sea.
The man began to laugh as he felt the salty sea breeze coming in.
"I should start preparing as well."
However, although the sea was blue, the adjacent port was completely black with lined-up ships.
And on the sails of all the ships waved flags with the same emblem.
They were the crests of the Barbosa family, adorned entirely in gold.
***
The Zemina advanced over the calm waves.
Because it was in the fog, it was the same no matter where you looked, and the surrounding area was filled with remnants of broken ships, perhaps due to reefs. However, Harven's movements while holding the helm showed no hesitation.
This was because they had finally found something to cling to in the vast ocean.
"That looks like a moonfish."
"What is a moonfish?"
"A fish that looks like that."
"...When you put it like that, I have no idea."
Vlad ignored Harven's nonsensical words and looked ahead.
Currently, the Zemina was following a ship with a strangely shaped body that was hard to describe.
It was short in length but tall in height, which made even someone as inexperienced as Vlad think it looked extremely unstable.
"A ship that swims underwater... no one would believe it."
"That's right."
Vlad responded to Harven's words and looked toward the bow of the Zemina.
Not only Nibelun, who seeks out mysterious things, but also Joseph, Jager, and the elves of Ausurin.
They all gathered and said it was the first time they'd seen something so strange, despite the uncomfortable atmosphere they'd been feeling until now.
"There are ships that move without wind and ships that swim underwater."
Vlad raised his hand to his eyebrow and looked away.
This was because the wind passing through his hair felt cooler than before.
"I wonder what else there is."
The clear sunlight began to shine on the back of Vlad's hand, which was placed over his eyes.
With that, the white fog, as if it were a lie, began to clear.
As the dense fog that had blocked their view disappeared, the crew members began to express their amazement spontaneously.
"It must be the island of the dwarves."
"Yes."
Vlad nodded as he looked in the direction Harven was pointing.
An island floating alone under a flock of seagulls hovering over the blue sea.
Finally, the island they had been searching for appeared before them, reflecting the sunlight on the water.
The island of the dwarves, Lemnos.
Just as Ausurin was the last bastion for the elves, Lemnos was a refuge for the dwarves, who now welcomed them.
***
"Then, it seems we part ways here."
From the half-submerged ship, a dwarf climbed up and waved towards Vlad.
"Thank you for saving us back then."
The captain of the strange ship that had guided them until now was Vulcan, a warrior from Nidavellir.
He had been one of those who volunteered for this mission after being trapped in a Nassau tavern with other young dwarves.
"We didn't specifically come to save you, but..."
"But you did."
Do what you have to do where you need to be.
Vulcan recalled the knight who had been genuinely angry upon seeing the trapped children.
"Move forward to where you can see. Nidavellir welcomes you with open arms."
After his farewell, Vulcan returned to the chimney, and the strange ship that resembled a sunfish began to submerge again into the sea.
Watching the ship disappear, leaving only bubbles as they had first encountered it, some of the sailors couldn't help but express their amazement with contained groans.
"I really want to ride that too someday."
Looking at the sinking ship with a bit of sadness, Harven fully unfurled the sails, which had been half-open until now. Then, receiving the wind blowing from behind, the Zemina began to move forward with all its might.
Unlike when they were trapped in the fog, now the ship moved towards a clear goal, providing a refreshing sensation to those observing it.
***
The port of Lemnos Island was filled with dwarves flocking to the island after hearing the news.
Just as the dwarves were a novelty for the northerners, the humans and elves seemed like strange guests to the residents of Lemnos Island.
"But they said they would welcome us earlier, didn't they?"
"...Whenever you travel to a foreign place, you must follow their customs."
Joseph and Vlad raised both hands and made eye contact as if they were surrendering.
Not just these two, but the entire group that disembarked from the ship was now being meticulously inspected by dwarf warriors.
Every time the sturdy hands of the dwarves touched them, Vlad frowned, but on this island, security was essential, so there was no other choice.
"Please be patient. I will make sure you receive proper hospitality later."
Sigurd, an acquaintance of the group, tried to calm them by noticing the increasingly tense atmosphere.
Even if he were one of the 12 tribal chiefs comprising Nidavellir, he couldn't avoid such strict procedures.
"Can I take a look at your sword?"
"What?"
Despite Sigurd's attempts to calm them, Vlad's gaze filled with a blue fire.
"I need to ensure it doesn't contain anything suspicious, so..."
"Are you asking a knight to hand over his sword? Are you really telling me that?"
Although they were human words, they sounded like a beastly growl.
As Vlad's eyes gradually turned blue, the dwarf warrior took a step back unconsciously.
"...Then at least give me the dagger you're wearing."
"Isn't a dagger also a sword?"
For a knight, the sword is his identity. The dormant fury in Vlad began to awaken at the dwarf's demand to surrender his identity.
"Try touching me. I'll rip your head off in an instant."
"..."
He spoke softly, almost like a whisper, but his voice was a mix of alleyway roughness and dragon ferocity.
The dwarf warrior in charge of the inspection, despite being an experienced man, hesitated for a moment at Vlad's threat.
"Idiot, stop bothering people and take out the dagger as they asked."
"..."
"Don't just glare. Take it out at once."
At that moment, an old dwarf emerged from the crowd and called out to Vlad in a loud and clear voice.
It was an elderly man struggling to straighten his back, which had become hunched over time, with a cane.
"Who are you, old man?"
"Why would it matter to you?"
Despite Vlad's threatening questions, the old dwarf simply approached, paying no attention.
For the elder who had dedicated his life to forging iron, the threat of the young dragon was nothing.
"Anyway, why is all your armor broken? Despite your pretty face, you're quite rough."
"..."
Although his armor seemed intact on the outside, the old dwarf had quickly noticed its multiple damages.
Vlad, who had been gaping a moment ago, was a bit surprised when he saw the elder recognize the state of his armor with just a glance.
"Even if you do that, I won't give you the sword."
"I don't need it either. Those swords are trash."
A vein appeared on Vlad's forehead at the mention of a ragged sword, but the elder's attitude did not waver.
To be precise, no one here could stop the old man.
"Sigurd! Is this the guy?"
At the elder's shout, he shook his head and said it was Sigurd in front of him.
Vlad, incredulous at the elder's audacity, held back only because of Joseph's urgent look beside him.
"...Then, let me take a look."
Sshring-
The dizzying sensation of something mine being taken by foreign hands.
The growing discomfort made the air around Vlad even tenser.
"Put that down, old man. I'm telling you nicely."
Due to the sudden change in atmosphere, everyone at the port began to focus their attention on Vlad.
"I said put it down."
"..."
Although Vlad demanded the dagger with blue and bright eyes, the dwarf blacksmith simply smiled.
This was because he found old marks he had carved on the drawn dagger.
"Yes, it's the right one."
With trembling hands, but respectfully, the old dwarf sheathed the dagger again and looked up to face Vlad.
"But where did the rest of this go? I think I made at least ten of these."
"What?"
"Anyway, how is Sir Jorge doing? I haven't seen him in over ten years."
Vlad, who was growling, fell silent while observing the old dwarf talk about his former boss.
"...Jorge?"
More than the confusion of hearing a familiar name in a strange place, Vlad was perplexed by the elder's gaze.
Because the elder's eyes at that moment were like those who wandered searching for some old memory.
***
On the calm sea, there was an empty beach illuminated only by the moonlight.
Contrary to its seemingly peaceful appearance, it was a place filled with suppressed moans and children's cries.
"Old man, have you gone mad? That's a cooking pot."
"I know."
Despite the lamentations, the old dwarf heated the pot with a concentrated look. It was the only thing he could do for the knight he would soon part with.
"..."
The old dwarf tossed pieces of rusted iron into the hot pot.
He sprinkled the powdery, vision-filled dust there and melted it into a lump. Then he transferred the molten, red-hot iron into a mold made of wooden pieces.
"Thank you for protecting us."
"...Don't look at me like that. I didn't do it because I wanted to."
The old man, who had carefully moved the molten iron, raised his head and looked at the knight standing alone under the moonlight.
Upon closer inspection, I saw that the man's tattered armor was filled with red wounds here and there.
"I only did it because the children kept crying."
A man who was where he was supposed to be.
That's why Jorge, who followed rules instead of orders, relaxed his stern expression only when he saw the ships approaching from the horizon.
"They're here. It's time to say goodbye."
"Wait."
When Jorge tried to rise without further ado, the old dwarf hurried to grasp his pants.
"Take this, at least this."
"What is this?"
"A dagger."
Jorge looked at the daggers the old man was offering him.
Since I saw the process of making them right in front of me, I didn't expect them eagerly, but they were daggers that somehow had a distinctive gleam under the moonlight.
"Although I give them to you now, if we ever meet again..."
"We won't."
Understanding the old man's desire to give something back, Jorge took the daggers with his bandaged hand.
Perhaps because they were made with warmth rather than heat, the daggers were simply warm even though they had just been made.
"It's better for you and for me to never see each other again."
With his last indifferent words, the Gaidar knight simply waved his hand and left the peaceful white sand beach.
The old dwarf stood on the white sand beach for a long time, watching his figure for a long time and only greeted by the moon.
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